The hush that had followed the System's maelstrom of punishment had been colder than the alarm. Reuben rested on the planks, the rough wood firm on his cheek. The ghostly glimmer of red dissipated from his eyes, but it was seared onto the back of his eyelids. He blinked and saw it: LIVES LOST: PREVENTABLE.
Anna's hand lay on his back, a solid, comforting weight. She didn't speak. Nothing could excuse this. All she could do was give him her silence, which acknowledged the depth of the failure without diminishing it.
And then, finally, after what felt like an age, Reuben struggled to his feet. His movements mechanical, like a puppet whose strings had been severed and hastily re-knotted. He looked at Anna, and the devastation in his eyes was so great that she flinched.
"It was my fault," h
